When I write, I write.
When I practice yoga, I practice yoga.
When I talk with friends, I talk with friends.
Or at least, I wish it were like that.
Because you and I both know how distracted the mind can be, my friend.
You don’t even need to meditate to figure that out.
So the mind needs a reminder once in a while.
“What’s truly important right now?”
I’ll be practicing every day.
There’s nothing wrong with striving for excellence when you’re passionate about something.
But being passionate doesn’t come with an obligation to be – or even try to become – good.
It’s fine to write for the sake of writing, not to write a bestseller novel.
Paint for the sake of painting, not to be the next Picasso.
Run for the sake of running, not to finish a marathon.
I don’t need to be good at this today.
And some things I just never need to be good at.
You always have a choice.
In all his life Picasso produced about 147,800 pieces, consisting of: 13,500 paintings, 100,000 prints and engravings, 300 sculptures and ceramics and 34,000 illustrations – an impressive 78-year career.
https://www.pablopicasso.org/picasso-facts.jsp
13,500 paintings; that’s almost 37 years of producing a painting, every single day.
How good would you be if you had painted daily for 37 years?
Maybe still not as good as Picasso. Or maybe better. Hard to tell, because while many people might be born with talent, few people have the discipline to combine it with that level of discipline.
One of the most potent drivers of change AND perpetuators of old habits is cognitive dissonance:
In the field of psychology, cognitive dissonance is the perception of contradictory information, and the mental toll of it. Relevant items of information include a person’s actions, feelings, ideas, beliefs, values, and things in the environment. Cognitive dissonance is typically experienced as psychological stress when persons participate in an action that goes against one or more of those things.
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cognitive_dissonance
What’s interesting about cognitive dissonance is that both “sides” of the dissonance are not equal:
If you think one thing, but you do something else, eventually you’ll start believing what you do, not what you think.
In other words: actions overrule thoughts.
We usually start in the first scenario until we gain enough leverage over ourselves to change our actions. The moment we change our actions to actions that conflict with our thoughts/beliefs, we’re creating cognitive dissonance.
Then, if we follow through with our new actions, our beliefs start to change.
The big turning point is that moment where you start taking a different action.
Which begs the question:
Identify your leverage points that jolt you into action, and you gain power over your beliefs and identity.
If I don’t write the post I intended to write, I actively avoid the desired result of my writing.
If I don’t do the workout I intended to do, I actively avoid the desired result of my workout (being in better shape, running a new PR,…)
If I don’t have the difficult conversation I intended to have, I actively avoid the desired result of that conversation.
Inaction is not the lack of action.
Inaction is taking active action to avoid working towards the result you desire.
The real question, then, is:
Why do I actively avoid working toward a desired result?
Am I worried that even if I write daily, I’ll never become a skilled writer?
Am I worried I won’t enjoy writing anymore if I ever get recognition?
Am I worried that writing every day will turn me into a skilled writer, but being a professional writer won’t be fulfilling?
P.S. I’m sure you’ve noticed by now that I only have a limited repertoire of examples in this newsletter, my friend
I trust you to apply the insight to your situation.
And maybe, when you’re pondering the question above, you’ll come to the same conclusion as me:
That more often than not, I’m more interested in the comfort of “wanting” something I don’t have than in “taking action to get something.”
Day 20 of my daily publishing experiment. What I’ve learned (or remembered) so far:
In short, a pattern I’ve observed many time in the past years is playing out again:
When I start defying my own excuses by taking action, no matter how small, my self-trust grows, my self-image shifts, and I become more of the person I want to be.
Which begs the question:
Where else am I frustrated, holding on to a static identity of the past that I could prove wrong by taking action?
I don’t care what I write.
I care that I write.
Because only once the daily act of writing isn’t in question anymore, can I start writing what matters.
